


Solar Eclipse

by rhcdes



Category: Mamamoo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Ancient Korea, Angst, Drama, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Queen Solar, Romantic Angst, Slow Burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Warrior Byul, moonsun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-12 06:27:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19223494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhcdes/pseuds/rhcdes
Summary: In 623 AD, Kim Yongsun is made queen of the ancient Korean kingdom of Silla. Her duty to her kingdom, in the face of the threat of war and political machinations, leads her to commit to never marrying. Her childhood friend, trusted advisor and leading military general Moon Byul-yi provides the only source of constancy in a life of turmoil, loneliness and conflict. Despite the deep, life-long love that they share, Yongsun's duty to her kingdom comes before all else. Though this commitment proves hard to keep.This story follows the tragedy of the life-long romance between Queen Solar of Silla and her secret lover Moon Byul-yi, and their desperate attempts to sustain their love in a world and society determined to extinguish it.





	1. The Princess in the Tower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! First fanfiction I've written (since I was like twelve lol) so please keep that in mind xoxo.

_In the year 602 AD, Kim Yongsun was born as the first and only heir to the Kim dynasty, the line that had ruled the kingdom of Silla, seated in the south-east of the Korean Peninsula, for over a century. This ‘Three Kingdoms’ period of Ancient Korean history marked a time of great military and political conflict; if not at war, Silla bore the constant threat of invasion from the rivalling kingdoms of Baekje and, most significantly, Goguryeo._

_Following the death of the king in 610, the Kim dynasty is left without a male heir. The consequent power vacuum results in over a decade of civil war between loyalists to the dynasty, and those seeking to topple the monarchy and establish their own influence._

_Kim Yongsun is imprisoned in the Tower of Hansung and spends each day from the age of eight dreading word of her impending execution. Her existence is defined solely by its fragility, uncertainty and total powerlessness._

_Her nightly visits by Moon Byul-yi provide the only source of constancy in her life._

 

* * *

 

 

Byul held her breath as she tapped gently on the rotting oak of Yongsun’s door. It was always upon reaching the door that Byul felt her most anxious, her most vulnerable. She assumed it was the fear that a guard might hear her tapping, though this never seemed quite an accurate enough explanation for the pangs she felt in her chest as she waited for the princess to respond. Only twelve years old, the girl had little trouble sneaking through the shadows of the tower’s winding, unlit corridors, and the threat of severe punishment – isolation, banishment, perhaps even execution – failed to deter her from nightly visiting the chamber of Kim Yongsun.

 

Her thoughts were impeded by a strained, and yet somehow gentle, creak as the door opened to reveal the youthful face of the princess of Silla, alert and beckoning for Byul to enter. Kim Yongsun, born only one year earlier but seemingly a thousand years older, stood in the shadows of her prison chambers, the shape of her head illuminated by the fragmented rays of soft moonlight seeping through the crack in the tower wall. As Byul entered, she noticed the slight shivering of Yongsun’s tiny frame and, glancing at the bare mat laying on the ground that served as her bed, felt a sense of despair at the living conditions to which the princess had been reduced in her imprisonment.

 

For an instant, Yongsun’s eyes glistened with an indefinable emotion, before she leaped towards Byul and held her in a deep embrace.

 

“I was so afraid something had happened to you. Why are you late? Don’t ever do that again”, she murmured, her face buried in the crook of Byul’s neck. Byul winced at the cold she felt emanating from the princess’ skin and wrapped her arms around Yongsun in a futile attempt to warm her.

 

“I’m sorry, there was a guard walking outside my cell for hours. I had to wait,” Byul took hold of Yongsun’s hand and raised it to her lips, pressing it against them softly. “You know I’ll always come, princess.”

 

The elder girl let out a gentle sigh, drawing her head away from Byul’s neck to look into her eyes, “you had better not call me princess, Byul. You tempt fate to prove you wrong by doing so.”

 

At this Byul could not help the deep sense of shame and fear that churned in her stomach – it was rare for Yongsun to address the reality of her fragile existence during their nightly encounters, and that she felt anxious enough to mention it could only suggest to Byul that the princess was becoming increasingly conscious of the immediacy with which her death could be ordered. It was a profoundly distressing reality, the deeply sinister presence of the outside machinations of war and politics which threatened to disturb the innocence and intimacy of their meetings.

 

So Byul tightened her grip on the princess’ hand, and led her to sit below the crack in the tower wall. The two lay on the biting cold of the stone brick flooring, bathing in the moonlight which swept across the room.

 

“How many do you see tonight?” Byul whispered to the girl beside her.

 

Yongsun’s eyes shifted, for a moment, to meet Byul’s, before returning to stare at the night sky leaking through the crack above them. “One hundred and thirty-two,” she whispered in return. 

 

* * *

 

 

Three years later and they lay in the same place, side by side under the moon. Tonight, it had turned a deep blood red, and the princess’ chamber glowed with a faint scarlet hue.

 

“You know, I once read that the red moon is caused by war in the heavens,” Byul muttered absently, half asleep under the warmth of the redness. She gazed lazily but with wonder at the object in the sky and felt a deep sense of her own mortality.

 

“If there is war in the heavens, then we truly are without hope here in Silla,” Yongsun said quietly from beside her. “Perhaps this is an omen of things to come. The blood that has been spilt across the kingdom; I fear it is only reflected in the redness of the moon. Every day our future seems less certain. I no longer know what will come of Silla. Of me – of us.”

 

Byul turned immediately to face the princess, only to meet her eyes which glimmered with the sheen of tears. All the girl could think to do was to cup her face and wipe them as they fell. “I’m afraid, Byul. I’m so desperately afraid, and I have been for eight years now. I’m not sure how I can cope much longer, staring out of a crack as my life hangs in the balance of men whom I have never met. Each night I dread that the knock on my door is a notification of my execution, rather than you.”

 

This hurt Byul profoundly; never had she considered how her nightly visits might provoke moments of such anxiety within the princess, and she felt a sense of personal guilt for eliciting this. In almost ten years, never had Yongsun seemed so raw; the vulnerability of her honesty made Byul’s stomach twist and her breath hitch in her throat. Unable to speak, and sensing that the princess had not finished talking, she was able only to move her hand down to gently grasp Yongsun’s arm in an attempted show of affection and protection.

 

A sharp wind blew through the tower wall, which for years had been crumbling not only as a result of its age but almost as though it too suffered under the weight of the princess’ sorrow. Yongsun’s hair fell across her face but she neglected to move it. Byul raised her other hand to brush it from her eyes and tucked it behind the princess’ ear.

 

“I of course fear my execution, Byul. That much is clear”. She took a breath as her eyes wandered back to gaze at the crack in the ceiling – it appeared wider than it had three years ago. “I think, really, I’m more afraid of becoming queen.”

 

Yongsun whispering her wretched admission of fear was a moment which Byul would return to for the remainder of her life. It marked the point at which her loyalty to Kim Yongsun became unwavering; the dissolution of the princess’ guarded exterior following years of secret meetings and mental anguish resulted in the formation of a devotion which would shape their relationship for decades to come. For now, all Byul could do was glide her hand down Yongsun’s arm and intertwine her frail fingers with her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone interested, the dates for this are relatively historically accurate, at least they will be for the major events of the climax hehehe. But yeah, Silla was a real kingdom which, interestingly, had two successive queens in the century of 600 AD - the second and third recorded female monarchs in Ancient Asian history! Though that was some cool trivia :)  
> I'll be integrating some more subtle elements of Sillan (Sillian? idk) culture in coming chapters, just to enrich its context and setting and stuff :)


	2. The Last Night

Four years later marked the year 623 AD, one that would denote a pivotal shift not only in the high politics of Silla, but in the very personal life of its princess. The opponents of the Kim dynasty extinguished, at only twenty years old, Kim Yongsun was restored to the succession.

Byul knocked firmly on the door to Yongsun’s chamber, as she had so many times before, but for the first time with no fear over the potential threat of discovery; the princess’ fate had been sealed, and she was set to be made queen in the spring. Consequently, she no longer resided in the tower as a prisoner, nor did her subjects, and thus Byul was able to visit as she pleased.

For some reason though, she had been reluctant to do so. Byul still returned to the princess’ chamber only in the dead of night, when the tower and the world around it lay sleeping. In her night-time visits, Byul and Yongsun existed alone, isolated, and entwined with one another. For both, this provided an unparalleled sense and source of calm, sanctuary, support and ease of mind, though for acutely differing reasons.

Byul was the daughter of a courtier in the upper echelons of the royal court of Silla; his disgrace and execution following an accusation of treason had led Yongsun’s father to take pity on her. She had been adopted into the king’s court, and educated to the highest standard, alongside Yongsun, causing the two to effectively share a single childhood. They had never been so close, so intimate and honest with one another, however, whilst protected and restricted by the politics and austere social etiquette of the royal court.

Therefore, it was then as Yongsun’s distant expression appeared, enshrouded by the glow of twilight seeping out from behind the door, that Byul immediately feared that some profound reversion to their previous formality had occurred.

“Come in,” Yongsun whispered. It seemed old habits died hard; she continued to move with a precise and nervous lightness, as though she feared being heard by a guard lurking to catch her and sentence her execution. These were the circumstances in which Yongsun had grown up, and her manners had thus been stained with a compulsive reluctance which defined her every movement and thought.

But never so severely as Byul noticed on that night. Every action was measured, and she followed the princess hesitantly into the room, feeling as though, with Yongsun acting almost like a stranger, that it was for the first time. “Is something wrong, Yongsun?” she asked, in fear of the answer.

She did not receive one, at least, not verbally. Rather, Byul found herself suddenly surrounded by Yongsun; the princess’ arms around her waist, her face in the crook of her neck as it always did, her aroma stretching around and encompassing her. Yongsun’s hair, sleek and dark, fell across Byul’s chest as she felt the chill of her fingertips through the thin fabric of her clothing.

Byul was powerless but to breathe in the princess’ scent, and to hold her in return. Neither could tell, in retrospect, how long they had remained like that – consuming and consumed by one another. If the world outside of the tower chamber froze during their nightly visits, then in that moment, time itself had stood still.

It was Yongsun that drew away first, leading Byul to sit under the crack in the wall just as the other had done so many years before. The princess rested her head on her shoulder and tilted to watch Byul’s face as she spoke.

Meticulous in her speech, Yongsun began. “When I become queen,” she whispered, “I cannot ever marry. To do so would undermine the security of my throne and the strength of my authority. You know, Byul, what so many people think of me already. I have so much to prove.”

There followed a period of disturbing silence, as Byul suffered from a sense of profound sorrow, though she did not understand why she felt it. Already the princess’ intimate and unexplained embrace had left her dazed; for a long moment, she struggled to comprehend Yongsun’s confession, let alone articulate a reply. 

Eventually, she responded, “You have my faith, Yongsun. You already demonstrate the qualities of a great ruler”. She turned her face to meet Yongsun’s expression, which was vague but unquestionably fixated upon Byul’s reply. “I will honour you eternally, not only as the queen of our kingdom, but more than anything else, as Yongsun”.

So focused was Byul’s gaze upon Yongsun’s features that it did not miss the princess’ blush and the smile that bloomed across her face. She did not realise, however, how closely forward Yongsun had leaned, so that their lips hovered desperately close to one another. By this point, the night remained in Byul’s memory as more alike to a dream than waking memory, and her recollection of Yongsun’s eyes drifting downwards towards her lips danced between the realms of fantasy and reality.

She recalled with certainty, however, when Yongsun brought Byul’s hand to her lips and kissed it. The princess looked up into the eyes of her confidant while whispering, “I have no doubt that you will”.

With that, the two returned to their refuge as they lay beside each other, watching the stars through the ragged crack in the tower wall.

This was the last time that such a refuge would shelter them. The following day, the princess was swept up in processions for her ascension to the throne and never returned to chamber in the tower. When Byul knocked on her door the next night, there was no reply. Their sanctuary thus was forever lost; it lingered only in the fragmented memories of those whom it had so constantly protected. In its neglect, the Tower of Hansung disintegrated, and by the end of Yongsun’s reign it consisted only of ruins. The crack in the tower wall had expanded to consume the entire fortress, and the intimacy between Yongsun and Byul would never be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst begins now x
> 
> I tried to explore more emotional ideas in this chapter, rather than focusing on speech and action. Still getting to grips with writing again since I am very very very (x1000) rusty so please bare with me xoxo
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has left comments and kudos and everything :)) It is MUCH appreciated


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